Page 185 of Rock Me All Night
"I don't." He runs his hand through his hair. "It was a rough week. I needed something to take the edge off."
Something inside me flares. I snap without meaning to. "And so you fucked someone? Isn't that why man invented alcohol?"
"That would be much healthier."
"But..."
"We were keeping a dry tour. Because of Miles."
"No, I just mean..." I play with my hands. "That's not very fair to her."
His lips turn down. "We both got what we wanted out of it."
"So you were just staring out into space willing this poor girl's body to act as a distraction."
Drew raises his voice. "No. I was there. In that moment. Making sure she came."
That's so much worse. I can't chase away the image of Drew grabbing some other girl, throwing her on the table, and fucking her until she screamed the way Meg was screaming with Miles.
"Are you okay?" His voice is still serious.
"Just hungry." I look away so he won't see the expression forming on my face. Drew is my friend. I shouldn't care when he last had sex. It shouldn't hurt picturing him making sure some girl came.
He lifts my chin so we're eye to eye. He stares at me, through me, like he's absolutely not buying my story. "Was your ex-asshole at least a good lay?"
"Not exactly."
He stares at me like he's demanding an answer. "That why you ended things?"
"No, he broke up with me." I pull my purse into my chest. "We've talked about this before." Not in detail. We're never going to discuss it in detail.
"Did he at least try?" Drew asks.
"Why do you care if my ex-boyfriend was a good fuck?"
"'Cause I want the best for my best friend." He looks me in the eyes. "Was he at least good with his hands?"
"No," I say. "I don't know. I don't... do we have to talk about this?"
Drew is all steel and fire. He's dead set on hearing all the details so he can pick apart my intentions. God forbid I did something that wasn't in my best interests.
"Yes, we do." He grabs my hands. His voice gets warmer. "How do you not know if your ex-asshole was good with his hands?"
This time, I stare at the ceiling. It's a very plain beige color. "Because he didn't use them."
"He didn't get you off manually?"
"Oh my God. I'm so not discussing this." I reach for my phone but there's no one to call. Meg is at work. And even if she wasn't, she doesn't have a car. She can't pick me up and drive me far away and I don't trust anyone else enough to discuss this.
"Okay, fine. Just answer yes or no," he says.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes," he says. "See. It's easy."
Drew drags his fingertip under my chin and tilts me so we're eye to eye. I try not to meet his gaze, but I can't help it. He has such piercing eyes. They make me melt.
"Did your ex-boyfriend use his hands—"
